


Paying My Dues to the Dirt

by TorunnSays412



Series: The Life Adventures of the Omega Pirate Assassin (And His Children) [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorunnSays412/pseuds/TorunnSays412
Summary: As the only omega in a family of mostly alphas, Altaïr has lived his entire life trying to prove his worth. It's startling to realize he accomplished just that, with his family behind him every step of the way.





	Paying My Dues to the Dirt

**Author's Note:**

> The final four parts of this series will all focus on one of the children (besides Haytham and Connor's, which I put in one story), and this is Altaïr's. This is a series of snippets from his life that didn't quite fit in with the original story. 
> 
> Also, I would like to say a huge thank you to my sister - she endured my ramblings about this series while we were in an airport, and she had no escape from me. Without her to bounce ideas off of, this may never have been finished. 
> 
> Title from Imagine Dragon's "On Top of the World".

Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad has lived a long life, much longer than expected.

He has also lived many lives, far more than his enemies expected him.

He is a son, a mother, a husband, an Assassin, a scholar, a teacher. No one expected him to live the life he did, least of all Altaïr himself.

//

Altaïr doesn’t remember the day his mother left for the West Indies. He was too young, even though the event supposedly traumatized him at the time. 

His earliest memory is of Malik, for all that would break his parent’s hearts. Umar was still gone for much of his childhood, off on missions, and Edward was obviously gone for years. Malik’s mother would take Altaïr into her home when his father was away or busy, and growing up he felt just as home there as he did in the house he shared with his father. 

It was one such day that he remembered playing with Malik. They were chasing each other around the courtyard in front of the Al-Sayf house, and Altaïr tripped and skinned his elbow. His shocked cry alerted Malik to his distress, and the older boy was immediately at his side. 

While Altaïr no longer truly remembers the events leading up to his fall – he couldn’t tell you the color of the sky, why Alima had forced them outside in the first place, what he was wearing - he does remember Malik’s face. The other boy was scared for him, worried, and he was still young enough he couldn’t control his expressions. 

It’s seconds after Malik has arrived at his side that his friend is off again, screaming for his mother. 

Altaïr knows better than to scream for his own mother, no matter how badly he wants to. 

The point being, from that moment on, with Alima cleaning and bandaging his elbow, soothing the hurt, Malik is always there, even when he’s not. 

//

Altaïr didn’t lie to his mother when he said he saw Edward walking down the street, that day he came back. He just failed to mention that for the four years he had been gone, Altaïr had spent every night asking for stories of his mother, most of which he believes Umar made up, but those stories cemented his mother’s image in his head. It results in Altaïr recognizing his mother on sight. 

He never tells Edward this, even when he knows his mother wonders how he knew. That day, he was so happy he didn’t want to make his mother sad by mentioning it. Altaïr had read the letter Edward had sent before he returned more times than he could count in the days before he showed up, and he understood how guilty Edward felt over his leaving. 

He would do his part to alleviate his mother’s guilt. 

//

“Mamá, why do the others hate me so much?” Altaïr asked Edward one day, on a day when he had gotten into a fight with the other children.  

There weren’t many children, but there were enough, and most of them were alphas. The few that weren’t were betas. Altaïr was the only omega, although Altaïr hadn’t realized how significant that was. 

Edward was wiping blood from Altaïr’s lip, where it had been cut open when the leader of the group, Abbas Sofian, had hit him when Altaïr started talking back after his insults. 

Malik had joined in the fight in a heartbeat, and in the end they actually won, but Altaïr wasn’t thinking about that. 

Edward sighs, sets down the cloth he had been using. “Come here, Altaïr,” he says, and Altaïr is young enough that he has no problem crawling into his mother’s lap. “They don’t hate you, son,” Edward tells him. “Not really. They just – they believe you shouldn’t be out there with them.”

“Why?”

“You’re an omega, Altaïr. And they’re alphas. They’ve been raised to think you’re less than them, and it aggravates them that you join them for training and that you are exceeding expectations.” Edward rests his cheek on top of Altaïr’s head, eyes sad, though Altaïr cannot see them. “They have traditional views, same as the Mentor. Times are changing, Altaïr, but not quickly. You’ll meet plenty of people who agree with them, and they will tell you your place is in the home. Don’t listen to them, Altaïr. Your life is your own, and whatever decisions you may make, your father and I will always support you.”

//

Altaïr’s return to Spain, after nearly five years in Italy, is unremarkable besides his reunion with Malik. 

Malik is, for one, furious that Altaïr hadn’t told him he was leaving all those years ago, the day after his father died. 

“I didn’t know I was leaving at the time,” Altaïr points out, but Malik ignores him and moves on to pointing out the slight differences that had occurred in the time Altaïr had been gone, with Kadar following behind silently. 

That’s how the next several years pass. Altaïr rejoins training with Malik, finding himself on the same level as those who had trained here the entire time thanks to Giovanni’s extensive training. Malik and he begin their competition to best each other, and Kadar follows Altaïr everywhere he goes. 

When they finally join the ranks of the Assassins, their training mostly complete, it isn’t long before Altaïr starts to pull ahead of his alpha friend. 

This infuriates Malik – not because Altaïr is an omega, but because Altaïr  _ left.  _ “How are you still better than me, even though you received half your training from some Assassin in  _ Italy?” _

Al Mualim takes notice, something Edward had warned him of before left for Spain. “He is why we left, Altaïr,” his mother had said. “I’m not saying don’t trust him, he is the Mentor, but you have to be careful.”

The faster Altaïr is promoted, the more interest Al Mualim takes, while more people whisper behind Altaïr’s back. “He’s an omega,” they say, “this isn’t his place.” 

Altaïr ignores them all, focusing only on himself. He knows he’s better than them, he’s proved it hundreds of times, and as long as he has Malik and Kadar and his family, he doesn’t need them anyways. 

//

The mission to retrieve the artifact goes well, at first. But Altaïr had spent too long working alone, and with Al Mualim’s praise circling his thoughts he makes mistakes, deadly mistakes, killing those who didn’t need it, rushing forward when he should have waited patiently. 

He loses Kadar and Malik in the fight, thrown through a wall with no way to get back to them. He doesn’t have the artifact, he can hear Malik shouting and Kadar screaming and then silence. Tears fill his eyes – this is all his fault, he knows it is, he should have listened to his parents because  _ they warned him  _ – but he wipes them away and focuses on returning to the Assassins. 

He can grieve later. 

He’s demoted. Malik comes back, alive and with the artifact, but with eyes that burn with anger when they look at Altaïr. He lost his arm. He lost his brother. And Altaïr only lost his rank, with every chance to work his way back up. 

Altaïr is surprised Malik doesn’t kill him. He probably would let him, if he tried. 

//

He doesn’t see Malik again until he leaves to find the third target Al Mualim has given him. He had heard Malik was set up in a bureau, in one of the nearby cities, but he didn’t know which one and he didn’t bother to find out. Malik wouldn’t listen to him, not after what he did. 

So when he steps into the bureau to see Malik standing at the desk, he freezes.

“Malik – “ he says, and Malik flinches. 

“I do not want to hear it, Altaïr. Tell me your mission, and I will tell you what I know.”

His voice is so cold, Altaïr wants to scream. This is not the man he knows, the man he grew up with. This is a man hardened by loss, and hate. 

Right now, there’s nothing Altaïr can do, although he would willingly rip his own heart out to have his best friend smile at him again. 

//

Months pass like this, as Altaïr takes out Al Mualim’s targets and pieces together a story that he wasn’t looking for. Every time he visits Malik in the bureau, the alpha warms up to him a little, until Altaïr can talk to him and apologize for everything without Malik taking his head off. 

“I forgive you, Altaïr,” Malik says, when Altaïr finds him after killing Al Mualim. Altaïr is still reeling from the revelation that he had been a Templar all along, but Malik’s words drag his attention to him immediately. 

“You shouldn’t,” Altaïr says. 

“It’s our line of work,” Malik counters. “Kadar could have died on any mission, and it just happened to be that one, as much as I wish it hadn’t been. You are no longer the reckless Assassin you were a year ago.”

It’s true. He had changed, with each target Al Mualim gave him. He thinks he’s finally the person his parents always assumed he would be. 

Malik’s eyes are soft, barren of the anger he had carried for months towards Altaïr. “I should have forgiven you a long time ago,” he admits. “I couldn’t even blame you for it, after a couple months. I just couldn’t put aside my anger long enough to tell you so.”

Altaïr’s shoulders drop a little, relief coursing through him. Malik steps toward him, waits a moment as Altaïr leans closer, and Malik wraps his arm around Altaïr and pulls him close. Altaïr returns the embrace, clutching at the fabric of Malik’s bureau robes, breath shuddering out as his body relaxes into Malik’s. 

He had missed Malik more than he cared to admit.

//

It isn’t long before they’re arguing again, though. Malik insists that Altaïr take Al Mualim’s place, while Altaïr fully believes Malik would be a better choice than him. The only time they take a break from arguing, while also doing their best to control the chaos that killing Al Mualim had created, is when Altaïr goes into heat. 

A year before, there would have been no question about Malik helping him through it. Once his heats became more regular and more intense, Malik had offered to be there for him. 

His mother had sat him down for a talk, before he left for Spain. “There will come a time when you have a sexual partner, Altaïr, and that’s fine,” he had said, and Altaïr had cringed because they already had this talk, why do they need to have it again? Edward had noticed his face and chuckled. “I know, kid, just give me a couple minutes. I need to tell you this now, before you get in the same situation I was in.

“Do you remember why I spent my heat with Giovanni, four years ago?” Edward had asked. Altaïr had shrugged. 

“You never actually told me, Mother.”

“Well, now I am. When you spend a number of years with a single partner – in my case, your father – your body gets used to having that person there during your heats. When that person suddenly isn’t there – well,  Maria described it to me like your body overworks itself trying to compensate for their loss. It’s why I had to take Giovanni’s offer, because without him it would have been far worse than it actually was.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m just warning you, Altaïr. It could happen to you, so just – avoid it for as long as possible, because as much as I love Ezio, I didn’t necessarily want him at the time.”

“Okay, Mother,” Altaïr had agreed. 

When he gets to Spain, he asks around and uses the library to learn more about it. What he discovers is that, as long as knotting never occurs, what happened to his mother wouldn’t happen to him (which is not a thought he ever wanted associated with his mother, but at least he knows now). 

So when Malik offers to help him, he allows it on the basis that Malik doesn’t knot him. 

Now, while their relationship is on the mend, he doesn’t fully know where they stand. He had already spent one heat alone, he could handle another just fine. 

Except Malik only looks at him when he brings up the matter. “Of course I would help you, if you wanted me to.”

“Oh.” Altaïr tilts his head. “Thank you, Malik.”

Of course, the day of, Altaïr and Malik launch themselves into a fresh argument, so their emotions are high when his heat actually hits. They’re not actually angry with each other by that point, but their minds are far more foggy than they would normally be, and the fact that it’s been nearly a year since they had last done this – well. 

When he finds out he’s pregnant, weeks later, he panics, and goes to the only place where he knows he won’t be judged – his mother’s.

//

Malik is, once again, furious when Altaïr finally comes back. Altaïr hadn’t mentioned why he ran away in his letter, only told Malik where he was. 

“Do you know what I’ve had to deal with these last weeks? The judgment coming from people who don’t believe in you? What was so important –“

“I’m pregnant, Malik,” Altaïr says, cutting off Malik’s rant. Malik stills. “I panicked when I found out, and we were both so stressed trying to decide who is taking over. I just needed to talk to my mother, see his face. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Altaïr – “

“Also, I won’t be the Mentor. We both know, as much as we hate to admit it, the others would never accept me. I’m an omega, one that they lost their faith in a year ago. They won’t agree with my control, you know it and I know it, and they’ll think this pregnancy will show just how inadequate I am for the job.” Altaïr exhales, tension he hadn’t realized he had been carrying leaving his shoulders. This is what had really been bothering him, and he couldn’t tell his mother the truth of the situation. “You are wiser than me, yes, but you are also our only option now.”

Malik steps forward and pulls Altaïr into his chest. “Alright, Altaïr, we’ll figure it out. I can take over, but I expect input from you. I’m not doing this by myself.”

“And the baby?”

Malik grins a little, pulling back so he’s facing Altaïr. “Well, I was already planning on marrying you. We’re just doing it out of order.”

Altaïr laughs.

//

“Altaïr, I found something you should see.” Malik comes into their kitchen as Altaïr is preparing dinner. Altaïr sets down his knife and looks at his husband.

“What is it?”

“Did your mother ever find out how the Navy found him?” Malik is holding papers in his hand, tightly enough that there are creases where his fingers are. 

“Not that I know of,” Altaïr says cautiously. 

“I think I know how.” Malik hands him the papers he’s holding. Altaïr reads them silently, face blank, while inside he’s fuming. 

“All those years – it was Al Mualim who told them?” Altaïr is nearly spitting with his rage. “Every day I spent with that man, and he was the one who betrayed us?”

The papers are proof of it – Al Mualim had written out copies of all his correspondence and kept them, and this is the letter that he sent to advise the Navy of the pirate living here. He had even written down the Ibn-La’Ahad address. 

If he hadn’t already been dead, Altaïr would have hunted the man down and killed him again. 

“Are you going to tell your mother?”

“I have to,” Altaïr says quietly. “I just wish my father had known.”

//

“What will we name him?” Malik says quietly, staring down at their newborn son. 

They had thought of several names, but now, looking at his son, Altaïr feels like none of them fit. When he had asked Edward his thoughts on the matter, his mother had only suggested to avoid names meaning ‘eagle’. 

“Do you think he knows Haytham means ‘young eagle’?” Malik had said when Altaïr showed him the letter.

“He was so proud of himself for coming up with it, I didn’t feel the need to tell him. It’s too late now, anyways,” Altaïr had said. “At least Tessa named Connor. He still broke the pattern, just not when he thought.”

“What about Darim?” Malik asks now. Altaïr hums as he thinks it over. 

“Darim,” he repeats. “It’s a good name.”

Darim blinks up at Altaïr, eyes dark like his father’s. Altaïr smiles down at his son, and wonders if this is what his own mother felt when Altaïr and his brothers were born. 

“I wish Kadar could be here to see his nephew,” Altaïr murmurs, and Malik tightens his arm around Altaïr’s shoulders. 

“He would have loved Darim,” Malik responds. “And taught him disobedience. Kadar was unruly as a child.”

Altaïr laughs, thinking of Kadar all those years ago, the noise tinged with sadness and nostalgia. “Yes, he would have taught Darim everything he knew.”

A few moments pass in silence, and then Altaïr says, “Thank you, Malik. A year ago, I never would have imagined this as my life. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Malik smiles and kisses Altaïr’s cheek. “You don’t have to thank me, Altaïr. We would have made it here eventually.”

//

“When did you know, Malik?” Altaïr is preparing dinner, while Malik sits on the floor and plays with Darim in the other room, close enough so Altaïr can still see them even as he cooks. 

“Know what, Altaïr? Be specific.” Altaïr hears a slight groan, then a happy giggle from their son as Malik picks him up. Malik comes into the kitchen then, bumping Altaïr aside to watch the vegetables as Altaïr takes Darim. 

It takes Altaïr a long moment to respond to his husband, instead staring at Darim, at the warm brown eyes he inherited from Malik, at the brown hair he received from Altaïr. “When did you know you loved me?”

Malik glances up as he takes the pan off the fire, transferring the chicken and vegetables Altaïr had made to the plates waiting. “We have been married for two years, and you are just now asking this?”

Altaïr doesn’t respond. Malik sets the pan down and looks at him, finally sighing. “You remember that day when we were kids, we were playing outside and you fell? I had to get Mother because you were injured,” Malik says and Altaïr blinks at him, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. 

“You remember that? That was – that was twenty years ago, Malik,” Altaïr says faintly. 

Malik only smiles, crouches in front of Altaïr and kisses Darim’s cheek before looking up at Altaïr’s face. “I have loved you for as long I have known you,” he says, hand lifting to touch Altaïr’s cheek. “Even when I tried to hate you. And I will love you for the rest of my life, however long that may be.”

“I love you, too,” Altaïr whispers leaning down to kiss Malik until Darim shows his unhappiness by flailing his arms, catching Malik in the head. They break apart laughing, returning to their dinner. 

//

Within days of Altaïr coming back from his mission, after Edward and his brothers have come to Spain, little Desmond decides Altaïr is his favorite brother. 

Altaïr does not know why, and Desmond is young enough that it means he ends up with three children instead of the two he gave birth to when Desmond comes over to play with Sef and follow Altaïr around the house. 

“His father would hate this,” Edward says when Altaïr tells him, laughing. 

Altaïr glares at his mother, glancing down the hall to where he finally managed to get Sef to lay down for his nap. “He’s known me for three days, Mother, he’s grown up with the twins and Ezio. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Just accept it, Altaïr.” Edward shrugs. “He’s young, but he’s stubborn. Reminds me of someone else I know,” he adds with a pointed look that Altaïr chooses to ignore. 

//

Their third child is a surprise. They had planned Sef, because they had wanted Darim to have a sibling. Malik couldn’t imagine being an only child, and although Altaïr was an only child for most of his childhood, he still loved all his brothers. Even Ezio, although Ezio seemed to believe there was a competition between them. Altaïr doesn’t know what this competition is, and Ezio wouldn’t tell him, so Altaïr thinks it’s a good thing Ezio doesn’t come visiting often just because it leaves his sanity intact a little longer. 

They planned to stop at two children. Altaïr was still going on missions, and while life had calmed down after Malik fully took over as Mentor, they were both busy enough that two children were enough. It was easy for Altaïr to find ways to prevent pregnancy, as long as he was diligent during his heats and Malik’s ruts. 

Apparently he missed it once though, because here he is, holding his youngest son Tazim and watching Darim, Desmond, and Sef train with Connor. Haytham was in London, considering joining the Brotherhood there, while Connor was helping train the novices until he decided whether he would stay or not. 

“I don’t want to stay here,” he had told Altaïr. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

“And if Haytham is in London, you don’t want to be there,” Altaïr had said. “Your rivalry is ridiculous, by the way.” 

Connor had shrugged.

“Malik has connections with the Colonial brotherhood,” Altaïr finally had told him. “Thanks to Mother. You could go there, if you wanted.”

Connor was still thinking about it weeks after his twin had left for London, and until then he decided he had no problem working with his nephews and younger brother. 

Malik comes up next to Altaïr, running his hand over Tazim’s head and smiling when the baby babbles at the sight of his father. “How is everyone?” he asks. 

“Desmond is complaining, Connor is unfailingly patient, and the boys are trying to best each other, like always,” Altaïr says. “Mother is off enjoying his peace and quiet for perhaps the first time since I was born. And Tazim is happy, as always.”

Tazim is an incredibly easy baby compared to his brothers, the only omega. Altaïr is incredibly thankful for it, because he has his hands full with the other two. He doesn’t know how his mother did it, with Ezio and the twins so close together. Two alpha children are hard enough, Altaïr doesn’t think he could handle a third. 

Taking that aside, he does love his children. He loves all his family, including Maria and Claudia, although he hasn’t seen them in years. Life is as peaceful as it can be, considering his family is also made up of Assassins. He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
